


A Brief Affair

by thatotherperv



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Buffy s2 / Angelus in Sunnydale era, Dog(s), Gen, Humor, cleaning up canon, sparked by a moment in canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-11
Updated: 2006-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatotherperv/pseuds/thatotherperv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was watching season 2 a couple weeks ago, and got to thinking about that dog that Dru brought home for Spike.  What happened to that little guy, anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brief Affair

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this amusing little scenario floating around in my head for a few weeks now, and I needed to make myself laugh, so...here you go.
> 
> Original post [here](http://thatotherperv.livejournal.com/59433.html)

“I said no. Piss off already. Don’t need you comin’ around here, humpin’ my leg.’

The little pile of fur at Spike’s feet made a mournful sound and scrambled to climb up into the wheelchair. He kicked it with his boot and it went skidding a few feet across the floor of the factory.

And then came scrambling right back. Stupid sod.

Felt a kinship with the thing, really.

Drusilla had tried to feed him a _dog_ , for fuck’s sake, and now he was sitting here all by his lonesome while she was out shagging Angelus in the gory aftermath of a kill. He hoped that bastard fried in hell. And the thing of it was, Spike knew he’d take her back in a heartbeat (someone else’s last) if she’d show him more than a pat on the head.

Speaking of being treated like a dog, a munchkin-sized howl reminded Spike that he was not, in fact, all by his lonesome. The little rat threw its head back and cried fit for a greek tragedy.

“I know, she’s fickle, ain’t she? Forgets right quick who she used to fawn over. ‘Cept Angelus, she never forgets about him.” The dog perked up and looked at him, head tilted attentively. He pantomimed for the dog’s benefit. “‘Spike, where is Daddy? When is Daddy coming back? Which dress do you think Daddy would want me to wear?’ How should I bleedin’ know, Dru, the prick’s been gone for nearly a hundred years.”

The dog panted, mouth pulled back in what Spike imagined was a little doggy snicker. Smart dog. At least someone ‘round here saw fit to listen up when he—

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I am not talkin’ to a dog. You hear me? I’m not that hard up. We don’t need any dogs around here. Don’t want em. Not good for anything, and don’t even try to feed themselves like a proper carnivore. Not like cats. Don’t want cats either, mind. Nothing cuddly and fuzzy. We’re fucking vampires, not—Oi! Come back here while I’m talking to you.”

Wasn’t that just ducky. Even the _dog_ couldn’t stand his drivel anymore. Just trotted off, easy as you please, to sniff at something in the corner. Lift his leg and—

Piss on Angelus’ leather pants.

Gleeful laughter came welling up as he watched the little furball release another stream on a silk shirt. Silk. Froofy bastard. “Good dog! Good boy!” The dog yipped happily along with him as they had a good laugh at Angelus’ expense.

Maybe he could get used to havin’ a pet, after all.

And wasn’t he just an industrious little thing, sniffin’ around for something else to sully. True what they said, about dogs bein’ a vamp’s best friend. Loyal and steadfast and—

“Hey. What are you doin’? Get away from that. That one doesn’t belong to the ponce, that’s my—Oi, that’s my coat, you mangy mutt! You’re going to be doggy kibble, you hear me? Bad dog. BAD DOG—”


End file.
